


a four letter word and it lasts forever

by trilliastra



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-12 21:59:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3356801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trilliastra/pseuds/trilliastra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Did you know she has a granddaughter named Tiffany?”</p><p>Stiles arches an eyebrow. What does that even –</p><p>“She tried to set us up?” He squawks, making his dad grunt in agreement. “And instead of saying 'no thank you, I'm not going to pimp my son out so you will stop trying to get me fired', you went with a fake dating thing?”</p><p>His dad shoots his hands up. “I panicked!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	a four letter word and it lasts forever

When your best friends is a werewolf there aren't many things that can surprise you. For six years Stiles has been prepared for all kinds of emergencies, except – _except –_ for the day his dad would come home after a night shift and say “I need you to pretend you're dating Derek.”

 “ _What?_ ”

 “I need you to pretend you're dating Derek.”

 Stiles sighs annoyed. “I heard _that_ . I just don't understand _why_!”

 His dad slumps on the couch beside him and runs a hand through his face. “Mrs. Francis invited herself to dinner.”

 “That old hag.” Stiles mumbles, ignoring the glare his dad sends his way. “She's still giving you a hard time because of her son?”

 “Of course she is.” Stiles' dad agrees. “Parrish said she stopped by last week with donuts. Again.”

 Stiles clenches his fists, and when his dad looks at him, pretends he's not thinking about throwing Mrs. Francis under a fucking bus. He understands that some people don't like his dad, that they think he's too soft – and Stiles knows he is to blame on that too – but Mrs. Francis has her mind set on making her son the next Sheriff. And she doesn't even bother to hide it.

 “Okay, she's a witch.” His dad glares at him again. “We all know that! But what does that have to do with me and Derek?”

 “Did you know she has a granddaughter named Tiffany?”

 Stiles arches an eyebrow. What does that even –

 “She tried to set us up?” He squawks, making his dad grunt in agreement. “And instead of saying 'no thank you, I'm not going to pimp my son out so you will stop trying to get me fired', you went with a fake dating thing?”

 His dad shoots his hands up. “I panicked!”

 “Ugh!” Stiles stands, marches out of the room. “You know I don't feel sorry for you anymore. I hope Mrs. Francis gets you fired.”

 “Will you call Derek, then?” Stiles can practically _hear_ his dad laughing.

 “I hate you!”

 –

 “Remember to breathe.” He says, waiting patiently for Scott to stop laughing.

 “Your dad is amazing, dude.” Scott says after a while, still grinning. “Damn, I wish I was a fly just so I could see how this will go. Have you talked to Derek yet?”

 “No.” Stiles admits. He's been avoiding this entire thing all week, but the night of the fateful dinner is coming close and all thoughts of not going with his dad's plan flied out the window when Mrs. Francis gave him a disapproving look the other day on the street. “I have no idea how I'm going to do it.”

 “Just explain everything to him.”

 “The asking is not the part I'm worried about.”

 “Then what – oh.” Scott widens his eyes. “ _Oh._ ” He moves to sit on the bed next to Stiles, puts a hand on his shoulder. “It's for the greater good, right?”

 “I guess.” Stiles mumbles, leaning into Scott's touch. “How can I be in fake-love with Derek when I'm in love with him for real?” He asks. “He's going to find out and be totally weird about it and then it's 'welcome to heartbreak land, Stiles'.” He lets out a broken laugh.

 “Stop!” Scott cuffs Stiles on the head softly. “Derek is not Lydia or that douche bag we do not talk about you dated sophomore year. You've seen the way he looks at you, it's for real, dude.”

 Stiles snorts humorless. If only Scott was right.

 –

 “Asked Derek yet?” His dad pokes his head through Stiles' half open bedroom door.

 “ _Argh!_ ”

 –

 “Okay,” he yells, walking into Derek's loft, “let's get down to business.”

 “Hello, Stiles. Nice to see you, Stiles.” Derek rolls his eyes, leaning against the wall, a mug with coffee in his hand. “How are you, Stiles?”

 “There's not time for this crap.” Stiles waves him off. “My dad is the worst dad ever, and now you need to pretend you're my boyfriend. There.”

 Derek arches a supernaturally attractive eyebrow at him. “I need to what?”

 “Pretend to be my boyfriend? Hold my hand all through dinner and act like you're not thinking about chopping my head off? Yep.” He plays with his keys, stares at the floor. “Okay, look – my dad's archenemy wants to set me up with her granddaughter. To save my poor mortal soul, he said I'm dating you. Are you in, or not?”

 “Are you making this up for some Stiles-crazy reason?”

 He makes a noise of disbelief, clutches at his chest. “I'm mortally offended that you'd think that of me. But no. I wish I was, dude. I wish I was.”

 “Fine.”

 “I know you – wait, what?” Derek rolls his eyes, sets the mug on the table.

 “Fine. What do you need me to do?”

 Stiles pretends his heart is beating this fast because he just climbed what it feels like a million flights of stairs. “This was surprisingly easy.”

 Derek shrugs. “There must be a good reason why your dad said that. And you're my friend. I don't mind.” He smirks. “Plus, I get free food, right?”

 “Yeah, totally.” Stiles says, still a little shocked that Derek agreed to this entire thing. In hindsight it shouldn't be so surprising, Derek is a nice friend, he'd probably do the same for any of their friends.

 That thought alone makes his shoulders drop, but he tries not to let Derek notice.

 “She's coming to dinner tomorrow night. Just show up before 6.” Derek nods firmly. “I gotta go buy some stuff for tomorrow, see you then.”

 “Wait,” Derek says. “I should go with you. I mean, if she sees us together it will seem more convincing, right?”

 “I guess.”

 Derek nods again. “I'm gonna get changed.” He says, walking to the bathroom and leaving Stiles to stare at his back perplexed.

 –

 It's weird to think that at some point in his life Stiles actually hated Derek. As they walk through the grocery store discussing over what would be better for dessert, a pie or cookies, Stiles thinks there's nothing to hate there.

 Sure Derek has some annoying quirks, like instead of using the same glass he just grabs a new one; he snores sometimes, especially when he's tired; he _hates_ comedy movies, glares at Stiles every time he puts one on; and he doesn't like pizza. If it were someone else, Stiles would rolls his eyes and deem him not interesting, but Derek is fucking special because instead of wanting to punch him in the face Stiles wants to kiss him until the world ends.

 He's so far gone it's pathetic.

 “We should make a chicken salad.” Derek says when Stiles reaches out for pasta. “It would be better for your dad.”He adds, all casual and not at all like he's ruining Stiles' entire life.

 “I don't know how to make chicken salad.”

 Derek shrugs. “It's not hard, I can help you.” Stiles suppresses a whine, turns away and takes a deep breath. “You okay?”

 “Yeah.” Stiles clears his throat. “Lead the way, chef Derek.”

 “Funny.” Derek says, but he's smiling when Stiles looks at him. “You said something about rice?”

 Before Stiles can answer, someone is calling his name in a loud and annoying voice. “Mr. Stilinski!”

 “Ah, fucking hell.” He mumbles, turning to find Mrs. Francis smiling wickedly. “Hi, Mrs. Francis.”

 “Shopping for dinner, honey?” She touches his shoulder. Stiles tries not to flinch away, but he does take a step back bumping right into Derek who rests a hand on his back. “Oh, and with the _boyfriend_.” She makes the word sound all wrong, and Stiles can't help but narrow his eyes.

 “I volunteered to help him.” Derek – bless his everything – says. “If it were for Stiles we'd have pizza.”

 Stiles scoffs. “Liar. We're having risotto.” He tells Mrs. Francis. “My dad's favorite.”

 She doesn't seem impressed. “I never quite liked risotto.”

 “That's a shame.” Derek says. “Because it's what we're having. See you tomorrow, Mrs. Francis. Come on, Stiles.” He takes Stiles' hand and pulls him towards the vegetables. “She's muttering all kinds of things about rude kids and how your dad clearly can't control his son.” He whispers in Stiles' ear. The closeness makes Stiles dizzy, Derek's hot breath sending shivers down his spine.

 “At least she bought this.” He gestures between them, looking up to find Derek's face close to his.

 “Yeah.” Derek whispers. Why are they whispering?

 He swallows heavily. “She's still watching?”

 Derek nods quietly, and suddenly he's stepping even closer, one of his hands holding Stiles' hip and the other cupping his cheek. “Is this okay?”

  _More than_ , Stiles wants to say, but instead chooses to close the gap between them. Derek's lips are soft against Stiles' and he feels his toes curling at the feeling of Derek's hot body pressed so close to his.

 Derek lets out a moan, or maybe Stiles does, it doesn't matter. All he can think about is the feeling of Derek's hair between his fingers and the way Derek is sucking his bottom lip, making him grow even harder inside his pants.

 Something in his mind is telling him that this isn't right, this shouldn't be happening, this isn't _real_ , but it feels real enough, and really good. It feels like love and want and everything Stiles was waiting for.

 “Excuse me.” Someone says, making them both jump. “Not the place or the time, kids.” A sweet looking old lady says, winking at them.

 “Sorry.” Derek mumbles, the tip of his ears turning red. He turns to Stiles. “She's gone now.”

 Stiles' stomach drops. Oh yeah, Mrs. Francis. Of course this wasn't real, Derek is just a really good pretender. “Right.” He coughs. “We were looking for rice.”

 “Yeah,” Derek agrees, “rice.”

 –

 It's not the first time Stiles thinks this fake dating is a bad idea, and it won't be the last that's for sure, but as he's parking outside of Derek's loft, he can't help but want it to be over, Mrs. Francis be damned.

 “You're freaking out.” Derek says making Stiles snort.

 “You're too.” Derek smiles. “It doesn't have to be weird. I mean Scott dated Allison, then dated Kira and now he's with Lydia and no one is being weird about anything.”

 “That's because all the girls are amazing.”

 Okay, Derek has a point. “Fine, let's get this settled then. I don't want this to come in between our friendship, if you want out just say so.”

 Derek crosses his arms over his chest. “Do _you_ want out?”

 “No!” He says, before realizing it was probably too fast. “I mean, yeah it was weird, but it's just for one night, right? We can go back to being friends later, go out kissing other people. Dating. Whatever.”

 Derek nods, but he doesn't look convinced. “Yeah.” He says.

 That word echoes in Stiles' mind over and over. Derek agreed to this, he initiated the kiss, he even held Stiles' hand all the way to the parking lot; but the way he just said 'yeah', like it truly hurts him doesn't make any sense.

 It's like he's hiding something from Stiles, which is even more weird because Derek doesn't lie to him anymore, much less hide what's make him feel this – upset? Sad? Heartbroken?

  _Heartbroken_.

 “Oh my god!” Stiles gapes, pointing at Derek furiously. “You don't want it to be over! You want to date me, and for real! You want to be my real life boyfriend! _Oh my god!_ ” Scott was right! Scott was fucking right!

 Stiles can't believe he missed something this big. He missed Derek's feelings, Derek's _love_ for him.

 He's so caught up in his epiphany, that he nearly misses Derek groaning and moving to get out of the car. _Nearly_.

 “Wait.” He shoots out a hand to take Derek's arm and force him back on his seat.

 “What do you want?” Derek asks angrily. Stiles flinches. “You want me to admit that I'm in love with you? That I accepted to be your fake boyfriend because it is all I can have? That kissing you was the best thing that ever happened to me?”

 “ _Yes!_ ” Stiles yells. His heart beating fast and the happiness warming his body from head to toe. “Because I feel it too!” He pokes at Derek's super muscled chest and smiles. “I feel it hard, dude. I feel so hard I want to curl up in bed with you, and hold your hand in front of everybody, and watch non-comedy movies with you forever.” Derek squints at him, when Stiles reaches to touch his hand he looks down and then up at Stiles' face again, blinks confusedly. “You see? I don't want to just _kiss_ you and have sex with you, I want more. I want a domestic life with you. That's how much I love you.”

 Derek opens his mouth once, twice, and then he's smiling the brightest smile Stiles has even seen on his face. “Yeah?”

 “ _Duh!_ ”

 And then they are kissing again, deeper this time, and Derek's hands are _everywhere_ , on Stiles' hair, on his chest, on his thigh. “Wait, wait.” Stiles pulls back, panting. “I have perishables in my truck, dude. My dad's gonna murder me if something gets ruined.” Derek snorts, but lets Stiles go. “We're having dinner tomorrow and then I'm coming to your loft and we're picking up where we left off, okay?”

 Derek gasps when Stiles palms his dick over his pants. “Just one thing.” He takes Stiles' hand, kisses his palm. “You gotta stop calling me 'dude'.”

 Stiles laughs brightly. “Can I call you _lover_ , then? My sun and starts? Oh, _oh_ – the wolf to my moon?”

 Derek groans, shoves the car door open. “I'm regretting everything right now.”

 “Liar liar, pants on fire!”

 “ _Everything._ ”

 –

 “Derek's coming, right?” His dad asks again. He's adjusting his tie on the mirror, and Stiles reaches out to help him.

 “Yes, dad. Derek's coming, dad. He's on his way, dad. Everything will be alright, dad.”

 He cuffs Stiles on the back of the head. “Don't sass me.” Then he pulls Stiles into a hug. “Thank you for doing this.”

 “Hey,” he pats his dad's back, “we take care of each other.”

 His dad pulls back smiling, and Stiles sighs internally when the door bell rings, it's _so_ not the time to start crying.

 He regrets it immediately when he opens the door and finds Derek standing awkwardly and wearing the black sweater Stiles gave him last Christmas. He looks so soft and _huggable_ that Stiles just throws himself at him.

 “Hmm, hi.” He moans.

 “Hi.” Derek says back easily, smiling. Then he coughs and raises his arm. “Hello, sir. I brought wine.”

 Of course Stiles' dad would be seeing everything. Of course.

 “Derek.” He accepts the bottle without looking away from Derek. “What is happening here?”

 “We're fake-dating. Fake-boyfriends kiss, right?”

 His dad gives Stiles an unimpressed look. “Not like that, they don't.”

 Stiles narrows his eyes. “How would you know?”

 “Stiles, are you hiding something from me?” When Stiles doesn't answer, he turns to Derek. “Is my son hiding something from me?”

 They both ignore Stiles' loud 'hey'. “We are dating, sir.” Derek says. “It's not fake.”

 Stiles' dad hums slowly, scratches his chin. “About time.”

 “What – what are you – dad, did you invent this entire thing to set us up?” His dad rolls his eyes.

 “Don't be stupid. If I wanted to set you up there are far easier ways than submitting myself to a dinner with Mrs. Francis.” He then pulls Stiles into another hug, offers his hand for Derek to shake. “I just thought you wouldn't take so long. Welcome to the family, son.”

 Derek's smile makes Stiles want to jump around in happiness. “Thank you, sir.”

 – 

Mrs. Francis makes Stiles want to puke.

 She's the kind of close-minded old woman that Stiles tries to avoid at all costs. Judging by the look on his dad's face he feels the same way. It's good that Mrs. Francis dislikes them too, because that means they can hate her without feeling guilty at all.

 The only reason why the dinner is not a disaster is because Mrs. Francis falls in love with Derek. Stiles can see in her face every time Derek says something, she keeps patting his hand, asking him about his work and things he likes to do, and smiling approvingly.

 Stiles is not jealous of her, but he's afraid she might want to set _Derek_ up with her granddaughter, and that's just a nope. No fucking way.

 His dad kicks his shin when Stiles groans and Derek is quick to put a soothing hand on his thigh.

 Okay, all in all dinner is fine. Since no one got pie on their faces, Stiles counts it as a win.

 “It was a lovely dinner.” Mrs. Francis says lovely like other people say 'disgusting'. “I didn't fancy the risotto, but the chicken salad was amazing.” She pats Derek's cheek softly. “And thank you for indulging an old woman.” She levels Stiles with a stern look. “You're a lucky boy.”

 “Actually,” Derek says, “I am. Stiles is amazing.”

 Stiles' dad hides a laugh behind his hand, as Stiles turns as red as a tomato.

 “Well,” Mrs. Francis concedes, “of course. Good night, Sheriff. I'll make sure to drop by the station next Monday.”

 “Good night, Mrs. Francis.” Stiles' dad says, waving as Mrs. Francis walks to the car where her son is waiting.

 Once the door is closed Stiles slumps against Derek's chest. “Oh my god, you're an angel.” Derek snorts, runs his hands over Stiles' back softly.

 “Good job, son.” Stiles' dad agrees. “Have you thought about becoming a Deputy?”

 “Dad, no recruiting tonight!”

 “Fine.” He shrugs. “You boys go do what you want now.” He waves them off. “Just remember to use protection and be back for breakfast.”

 Stiles groans, hides his face in the crook of Derek's neck. “I hate you.” His dad laughs all the way to his bedroom. “You still wanna date me and be part of this crazy family?”

 Derek smiles, kisses Stiles' forehead. “Absolutely.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I thought hell yeah I'm gonna write a Valentine's Day fic. It didn't happen.
> 
> Maybe next year?
> 
> And here's my [tumblr](http://www.brookesbutler.tumblr.com) if you want to talk!


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